


The False and the Fair

by kissedbysummer



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Based on Only You (1994), F/M, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Lyanna is Not a Stark, Lyanna!Snow, No to actual literal incest, but with a twist!, my first work pls be gentle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-04-07 14:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19086910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissedbysummer/pseuds/kissedbysummer
Summary: And if there was anyone who always, honestly, truly, completely believed in soulmates, it was her. Sansa.Based on Only You (1994)Discontinued, but if anyone wants to take over, I'm willing to give this to you along with my other ideas :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song with the same name, sung by Marillion when Lysa attempts to throw Sansa out the Moon Door

_Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.  
_ _Men were deceivers ever,  
_ _One foot in sea, and one on shore,  
_ _To one thing constant never.  
_ _Then sigh not so, but let them go,  
_ _And be you blithe and bonny,  
_ _Converting all your sounds of woe  
_ _Into hey nonny, nonny._  

_Sing no more ditties, sing no more_  
_Of dumps so dull and heavy._  
_The fraud of men was ever so_  
_Since summer first was leafy._  
_Then sigh not so, but let them go,_  
_And be you blithe and bonny,  
_ _Converting all your sounds of woe  
_ _Into hey, nonny, nonny._

\- William Shakespeare, from Much Ado About Nothing

* * *

 

As everyone knows, Sansa Stark is a girl raised on songs. Her sweet voice carried all through the house, and brightened the days of her family, even if sometimes her songs were sad. In trial and hardship, she would sing. She loved Florian, a great fool and knight, that fell in love with the maid Jonquil, swimming in the Maidenpool. She danced while she sang, like Jenny of Oldstones, who enchanted the Prince of Dragonflies. She would weave blue winter roses, in her sunset red hair, in memory of Lyanna and Rhaegar. Like her mother, and her mother before her, Catelyn Stark smiled upon her, indulgent, as Sansa grew up hearing story after story, dreaming of love, true love.

And if there was anyone who always, honestly, truly, completely believed in soulmates, it was her. Sansa.

 

_Sansa, 11 years old_

"Who is my soulmate?"

Sansa softly asks the Ouija board in front of her. Sitting in the family den, the Stark sibling surround the Ouija board. They've been asking questions for a while, with Robb asking more about his favorite sports team, the Direwolves representing the North, and Arya asking about her future in fencing. Bran mostly asked yes and no questions about their family, to test its accuracy. So far, it's correct. Gently, she places her fingers on the glass, waiting for the glass to move to the letters. In front of her, Robb sighs and places his fingers on top of the glass as well. Bran waits in bated breath, while Arya rolls her eyes and lies on the floor. Silence, until…

“ _Robb_ , stop pushing it!” Sansa shouts, “You’re _not_ supposed to push it! You’re supposed to let it happen…”

“I’m not pushing it, _you’re_ pushing it—”

“Am not—”

“My god, just hurry up!” Robb exclaimed, “I want to know about the series.”

“Wait, Bran, can you write this down?” Sansa asked. Bran takes a piece of paper and a pen, ready to write. He kneels near the board, careful not to touch it, and cross sits beside Sansa.

“Sansa, how do you know you have a soulmate?” Bran asked, curious.

“Mom told me everyone has a soulmate,” Sansa said, smiling serenely, “With this, I’ll know his name… The one I’m supposed to wait for. The one who’ll wait for me.”

“But Sansa, what if he’s dead?” Arya exclaimed, “Or worse… What if it’s Joffrey?”

Joffrey Baratheon, Sansa’s first boyfriend, broke her heart at the tender age of 10, by punching her face in front of the whole school. Robb and his friends took their revenge, and immediately punched him back. Needless to say, that relationship didn’t last.

“Don’t be stupid, Arya,” Sansa admonished, “Joffrey wasn’t the one. It didn’t happen, I would have known. Like how wolves know their partner, and how bears wake up after winter. And of course, he should be alive— Look!”

Sansa’s fingers stay on the Ouija glass, letting it lead her fingers to the right of the board. It inches slowly, reaching the first, and then the second letter.

“J-O-?” Sansa pales, “It can’t be Joffrey, it can’t!”

“It’s still moving,” Robb said, eyes and fingers still on the glass.

Sansa stills her breath, letting the Ouija glass move. Bran scribbles each letter diligently, until the arrow comes to a stop. Slowly, Sansa lifts her fingers, taking a deep breath. Robb removes his fingers, and asks,

“So, who is it then?”

“Jon Snow,” Sansa murmurs, “He’s the one.”

“Who’s Jon Snow?”

 

_Jon, 11 years old_

Lyanna Dayne kept her stare steady at her son, knowing how devastating her news has been. Within his face was fear, sadness, and anger, warring to take over him.

“But _why_?” her son asked, wrecked, “He could have afford it, he was rich! He didn’t need to go public with it. He could have been my dad…”

“He didn’t want you to suffer the cameras,” Arthur, Lyanna’s husband, said gently, “He wanted you to have a normal life. He was my friend, and your father-”

“But he wasn’t, was he?” Jon glared at him, daring him to say something. Arthur stayed silent. “He _wasn’t_ my father, even if he could have been. All he wanted to be was Rhaegar Targaryen, the Prince That Was Promised, famous rock star, and now he’s dead.”

“And you are Jaehaerys Targaryen,” Lyanna said, “Your father left you a will-”

“I am _not_ Ja- whatever,” Jon said, “I’m only Jon Snow, I’m-”

Jon collapses in her arms crying. Lyanna pats his shoulder, holding him close, brushing the hair from his eyes. As tears fall on Jon’s face, Lyanna looks at Arthur, guilt behind her eyes. How could they have done this? How could they have hurt their baby boy?

In her mind, Lyanna thinks about her family, what could it have been with Rhaegar. She remembers an easy smile, warm and soft as Rhaegar could be. She remembers warm hugs in the sunset, and letting go before she wanted. She knows Rhaegar is good, otherwise, she would not have loved him. Could it have been better with him in her life, having to share him with the spotlight? Closing her eyes, she knows it couldn’t have been. A life with Rhaegar, with Arthur at the side, longing for what they have now, would have been a lie.

“Shh, there now,” Lyanna said, “You’ll always be Jon Snow, you’ll always be my boy.”

Lyanna holds her son closer, and Arthur rushes and envelops them. _Our family_.

 

_Sansa Stark, 16 years old_

_At the Annual High School Fair_

“Come on, Sansa, let’s go,” Margaery said, pulling her arm towards the tent. Above that tent was a sign saying, _Visions from the Lord of Light_. Below, in smaller font, says: _Ask anything about your future_.

“To the fortune teller?” Sansa asked, “What if she said that someone else is my soulmate?”

“Maybe she’ll say Harry Harding is yours,” Margaery said, teasingly. Sansa blushed. “Come on, Sansa, whoever Jon Snow is, we have no idea who he is, where he’s from, or even if he’s alive. Don’t you want to know? And besides,” Margaery looks at Sansa, “I kinda want to know if Robb is mine.” Margaery smiles, sighing softly at the thought of Sansa’s wonderful, gorgeous, gentlemanly brother.

Sansa stopped, and looked at Margaery, “ _Robb?_ You love Robb?”

At Margaery’s silent nod, Sansa groaned. _Better Margaery than Jeyne Westerling,_ Sansa thought, _who didn’t seem trustworthy. And if anyone could keep up with him, it was her._ Finally, with Sansa giving up all resistance, Margaery grinned brightly, and pulled her into the tent.

Inside the tent was a woman. She was all in red, her unnaturally red hair draped down her torso, like rivulets of fire, flowing on top of the blood red dress she wore. Hidden in long, heavy sleeves, are pale white wrists, covered in intricate henna and multiple red beaded bracelets. The henna tattoos reached her neck, dotted with red, like multiple skin pricks. Resting on that pale, tattooed neck is a giant ruby, gleaming in the candlelight. Her blood red painted nails were tapping on the table, messy with tarot cards, orbs, and crystals. But terrifying is her eyes, solemn, red eyes that caught Sansa’s as she entered the tent.

“Welcome,” The fortune teller said, imperiously, “I am Melisandre. I’ve been expecting you.”

“Of course you did,” Margaery said.

Melisandre stopped and stared at Margaery, as if wanting to burn her alive. Margaery raised her eyebrow. “You’re not here for me,” Melisandre said, and turned her eyes to Sansa. “What is your name, dear?”

With her eyes mixed with fear and wonder, Sansa looked at Margaery. She nudged her. “Sansa,” she said, hesitantly.

“A beautiful name,” Melisandre said, and touched a strand of hair, “Kissed by fire. Blessed by the Lord of Light himself.”

“How do we know you can tell the future?” Margaery asked.

“The price is blood,” the lady said, passing a knife. Sansa stares down at the knife, afraid, until the lady clears her throat, “And 50 cents.”

“And this will give me the name of my soulmate?” Sansa asked.

“Yes, and more,” the witch sniffed, “You only have one question.”

“Sansa, I didn’t know we needed blood, we don’t have to do this,” Margaery urged her, pulling her shoulder.

“I need to know,” Sansa said, resolute.

Sansa pulls the coins from her pocket, and gives it to her. Pulling Sansa’s hand, and pressing a finger to the knife, the lady pricks the finger, ignoring Sansa’s and Margaery’s gasps, as she brings the blade to her lips. The tip of the witch’s tongue darts forward to the knife, tasting the blood.

_Gross_ , Sansa thought, but she wanted to know, “Who is my soulmate?”

Melisandre, finished with the knife, tucked it in the belt of her dress. “As I said, you are blessed. He will be good to you, if you do find him. He will be brave, gentle, and strong.”

Sansa released the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Thank god, it wasn’t someone like Joffrey. But is it Harry?

“I’m sensing... a troubled past,” Melisandre continued, “Something to do with... his parents? His relatives? Something to do with his family, no doubt. A revelation that already shook his very way of living.”

_That doesn’t sound like Harry_ , Sansa thought, disappointed, until-

“He’s not the boy in your thoughts right now,” Melisandre said imperiously, “Let go of him. He will only keep you from being with your true soulmate. You’ve never met him, unlike your friend here.”

Sansa looked at Margaery, who smirked, and mouthed, _maybe Robb, huh?_

Blushing, Sansa looked back at Melisandre. She suddenly frowned, looked up, eyes questioning.

“This is strange,” Melisandre said, “I’ve never gotten this before.”

“What?” Sansa asked.

“I’m getting... a name,” Melisandre’s eyes lit up, like fire, “A J- No, Jake? No...”

Sansa stilled her breath. Surely, it can’t be...

“Jon… Jon Snow.”

Margaery and Sansa gasped.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Sansa Stark, 28 years old_

Sansa stood in the middle of Robb’s living room, surrounded by the cloth roses of her soon-to-be good mother’s wedding dress. _It was a beautiful dress_ , she supposed, _for a woman in the 80s_. She sighed. This wedding dress was not the dress she dreamed of. Instead of the simple styles she favored, the dress was intricately woven with the roses the Tyrells were known for. Instead of the elegant long dress that would have trailed on the floor, the dress was too short, and stopped above her ankles. On top of it all, instead of a dress that would have covered her scars from now thankfully deceased Ramsay Bolton, the dress she was wearing exposed her back, her scars for all the world to see. In short, this dress not suitable. _This was a dress for someone unscarred_ , Sansa thought bitterly, _some girl who was cherished, and protected, and pure. Someone who was loved_.

Sansa took a deep breath, trying to still herself. Ramsay Bolton was dead. Locked inside the Dreadfort prison, and killed by his fellow prisoners. He will never harm her again.

For a while, she remembered how it was with Ramsay. At 18 years old, broken up with Harry, and impatient to wait for her soulmate, she decided to, at least, try giving someone else a chance. And she did. Ramsay Bolton was charming at first sight. He was a romantic. He opened doors for her, pulled her seat whenever they were eating out, and always paid the bill. His strong arms held her close, and she used to think it was sweet of him to show his affection like that. He was driven. In college, he earned straight As in college (except for the rare C for his philosophy classes). He was in a band, and though not to Sansa’s taste, they were pretty popular in the univ scene. He knew what he wanted— he wanted to be a doctor. And, on a superficial level, he was even gorgeous. With tousled black hair and an alluring smirk, he caught Sansa’s eye. His own blue eyes gleamed as if holding a secret that Sansa wanted to know. What’s not to like?

But, her family disapproved. After dining with Ramsay, her parents kept tight-lipped as to what they thought of him. Robb argued against him, saying that he’s heard nasty rumors about him. Arya thought he seemed like he was hiding something, and Rickon plaintively said that he was creepy. Sansa was about to snap when Bran spoke up,

“What about Jon Snow?”

Bran was Sansa’s favorite, being the only one who didn’t disregard her love of songs and poetry. He was an inner romantic like she was. While Robb looked down, disappointed at Sansa’s choice, and Arya and Rickon seemingly about to argue against Ramsay, she looked at Bran and said,

“I want to give him a chance. Can’t you do the same?”

Bran stayed silent, and Sansa left the house, but the question never escaped her mind.

When Ramsay started to skip family gatherings because of not feeling welcomed in the Stark home, Bran’s question was there. When Ramsay started to keep Sansa from attending those gatherings, it was still there. When he started to keep her from attending hangouts with friends, from school-related functions, and, eventually, from school altogether, it was still there.

What about Jon Snow?

Jon Snow was the dream she held on to when Ramsay began to abuse her. With every cruel insult, every punch, every slap, every time he forced himself on her, Sansa teared up, imagining what it would have been like if she waited. If she was patient enough to wait for him.

She blamed herself for everything. If only she was patient enough to wait. If only she actively looked for him herself. If only she paid attention to how her family felt, how her friends felt, and how she really felt inside. If only she still pursued her passion for stories and poetry, and for sharing that with others. Because while Ramsay was the one who abused her, she felt that she enabled him to take advantage of her. If only she wasn’t weak, impatient, and stupid.

It was only until she turned 19 when Ramsay beat her till she needed to be in a hospital bed, that she was able to leave. Unable to explain how she was injured, Ramsay was arrested under suspicion of abuse. Robb was called to the hospital, as her emergency contact, and the closest family member she had in King’s Landing, and he called their family over. Once she recovered, they filed a case against Ramsay. Ned Stark served as his daughter’s lawyer, with Robb assisting his case. Nosy neighbors, formerly close friends, and Ramsay’s exes helped defend Sansa. Catelyn Stark contacted her sister Lysa and husband Petyr Baelish, in protecting her family, while strongly vilifying Ramsay across multiple TV news stations and newspapers. While never being close to Sansa, Arya Stark acted as her bodyguard, and when she had to go compete in the Olympics, Rickon Stark, Arya’s trainer Brienne, and Robb’s best friend Theon Greyjoy all protected her and taught her how to fight. Her best friend, Margaery Tyrell, helped her seek therapy from Olenna Tyrell, the Tyrell matriarch, and famous psychologist.

It was through Olenna that Sansa began to realize that her abuse was not her fault. That despite going through this, she was not broken. She was human, and through the patient care of her psychologist, and the sustaining love her family and friends had for her, she was able to get on her feet, and pursue her dream of becoming an English professor, writer, and columnist. It was also through this that she met Willas Tyrell.

Willas Tyrell was not the Jon Snow she dreamed of. He was not the strong, gorgeous man she imagined. Willas was handsome, yes, but due to an accident when he was younger, he lost his legs, and depended on wheelchairs, and eventually prosthetics. He was a botanist, sharing his family’s love for plants, particularly the roses that the Tyrells were famed for. He was a bit overly cautious but was gentle and kind. He treated her like a princess. Her family approved, Olenna sniffed but gave her blessing, and of course, Margaery gave him glowing recommendations. But more importantly, he was real, present, and _there_. After pursuing her degree, and her master’s, and after 3 years of dating, Willas proposed, and she said yes. Hence, why she was wearing her future mother-in-law’s dress.

Still, Sansa imagined what would have been if Jon Snow was real.

“Honey, I’m home!” Margaery said, barging in the room. She walked forward, threw her key in a bowl, and stopped at the look of Sansa in her mother’s dress. “Wow, Sansa,” Margaery teased, “You _know_ that you’re the most gorgeous Stark, you don’t have to seduce me in my own living room with that wedding dress…”

Sansa rolled her eyes at Margaery’s flirting, “Yes, I’m here to seduce you from my brother. Run away with me, dear, I smell way better than him.”

They paused and then laughed. Margaery and Robb married a few years back after Robb finished his law degree, and after Margaery set up her own events planning business. While they own their house, Robb graciously allowed Sansa to stay in their house for wedding preparations, since Margaery’s her matron of honor and wedding planner.

Sansa’s laughter died down as she looked in the mirror again.

Noticing that, Margaery became concerned. “What’s wrong, dear?”

Sansa looked at her from behind, eyes tearing. She pointed at her back, saying, “I’m sorry, but your mother’s dress is all wrong, my scars are showing, and…” Trying to take a deep breath, she said, “I don’t want anyone to see what Ramsay did to me… I don’t…”

“Dearest,” Margaery hugged her and wiped the tears from her face, “Willas might have wanted you to wear it, but you’re not required to. I’m sure he’ll understand, once we explain it.”

“I just want it to be perfect,” Sansa said, “I don’t want any reminder of Ramsay, even if I don’t get triggered easily anymore. I want it to be like the movies.”

“I know, dear,” Margaery said, “But life isn’t like the movies.” Margaery held her hand, “I am lucky to be with your brother, but even if we have a great relationship, we still have our ups and downs. He was never my Prince Charming, nor was I his princess. It was a mutual commitment. It’s hard work.”

“I know,” Sansa said, “I’m happy that you’re together. I just wish that the wedding goes well, you know?”

“Well, even if it’s real life, we can find a better dress, perhaps something in the Northern styles you love so much,” Margaery said, eyes assessing the fabric, “Or perhaps, alteration? Make it more… you? I’ll make some calls.” Margaery lets go of Sansa’s hand, pulls her smartphone and clipboard from her tote, and walks to the den, dialing a number.

Sansa looks furtively at the mirror. _Perhaps it could be altered_ , Sansa thought, _Perhaps with more of the Stark family sigil, and perhaps with lace covering the back… Or perhaps Mother’s sigil could be incorporated_ … But trying as hard as she can, she can’t imagine how wolves and fishes would be placed with the overwhelming amount of roses on the sleeves, skirt, and torso.

 _Perhaps I should just stick with a plain dress_ , Sansa thought, _we don’t need to use our official sigils anyway, we’re not marrying into royalty…_ The Starks, Tullys, and Tyrells have been officially royalty, with most of their descendants named after Kings and Queens, but while they still hold a lot of influence and money, they haven’t been directly in power since the country shifted to a more democratic system. However, Ned’s brother Brandon Stark, Catelyn’s brother Brynden Tully, and even Margaery’s dad Mace Tyrell were all elected as their region’s representatives in Parliament, and occasionally, their families get invited to royal events.

Sansa got lost in her thoughts toward the wedding, but the kitchen landline rung, cutting her thoughts.

“Could you get that, Sansa? I’m still on the phone with Varys—” Margaery said, distractedly, “No, Varys, the wedding is in August, it’s a summer wedding—”

Sansa giggled at Margaery’s annoyance with the dressmaker and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” Sansa asked.

“You’re not Robb,” the man in the phone said, confused. Something about his voice reminded Sansa of the tall fresh pines of Winterfell, the crunch of fresh snow under her feet, and the warm ale they would drink to keep warm.

“I’m not, I’m his sister,” Sansa said, “Who is this?”

“It’s a friend of his from university,” the man said, “I just want to say that I won’t go to the batch reunion on the weekend, because I’ll be abroad, meeting with my family.”

“I’m sure he’ll be sorry to hear that. White Harbor Uni, right?,” Sansa said, and with Margaery mouthing, _who is it?_ , “What’s your name?”

“Uh… Jon Snow,” the man said.

“Alright, Jon—” Sansa’s eyes widened, and she dropped the receiver.

The clatter caught Margaery’s attention, as she ended her own call. “Sansa, who is it?”

“Jon Snow,” Sansa said, as the phone kept asking, “Hello? Hello, are you there?”

Margaery’s eyes widened. Surely, it can’t be—

Sansa quickly pulled the receiver from the floor, “ _Wait!_ Where are you?”

“Why?” the man asked.

“I- Uh- Um-,” Sansa’s mind scrambled, trying to keep him on the phone, “In case Robb wants to try to reach you?”

“I’m at the airport,” the man said, “But I don’t think he’ll make it on time. My flight’s at 4.”

Sansa looked at her watch. It’s 3:15 PM.

“Where are you going?” Sansa asked.

“Braavos,” his Northern accent rumbled, and she blushed at the sound, “Daenerys wanted to explore the world, and everything.” He chuckled affectionately at the unknown woman.

“Braavos? With the boats?” Sansa asked, breathless, “I love Braavos—”

“Huh?” he said, distracted, “Sorry, I have to go. Send Robb my regards, will you?”

The line clicked, and the dial tone played. Sansa and Margaery stared at each other, surprised, until Sansa rushes to change her clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really tried to build the current world of this story. it's still in Westeros, but a more modern Westeros, with everyone from the story still mentioned!
> 
> i decided to go with White Harbor University bc it's in the southern area of the North (see http://quartermaester.info) and i decided to go with Ramsay Bolton because I wanted Sansa to value the dream of having a soulmate, to have that dream become a source of strength for her, rather than her just clinging to the idea of a soulmate just because? (idk i found Faith still believing in a soulmate v naive, and the whole ~let's abandon the wedding~ thing, a bit strange. i mean if you were gonna marry someone, you would at least have some love for them, right?)
> 
> w willas tyrell marrying her, and margaery witnessing the call, this will be more dramatic, which i live for AHAHAHA
> 
> comment if you want to! if it's great, or if you're excited for something, let me know. if you're wondering about the whole technicalities/timeline, you can ask your questions. if it's totally terrible, please please please let me know! i'm just someone who wants to practice their writing here and i need all the help i could get :)


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa stripped off the dress, trying to carefully remove the fabric without tearing it. It was tight around the hips, and loose around the waist, so removing it was a challenge, but it _is_ her future mother-in-law’s wedding dress, so care is important.

Future mother-in-law… Would Sansa even be her daughter, if Jon Snow was really her soulmate?

“It’s a miracle,” Sansa whispered.

“It’s a coincidence,” Margaery said, sure of herself, “It helps that ‘Jon’ and ‘Snow’ are some of the most common names in the North.”

“There’s no such thing as coincidence,” Sansa said. Delicately folding the wedding dress, she places it back in its rightful place, the ivory green and gold square box.

Margaery stared her down. 

“Okay, fine, it’s a _weird_ coincidence,” Sansa conceded, “But don’t you think that the universe is trying to tell me something, that it’s worth investigating? And, hey, look at this—” Sansa pulled her phone, and brought down the notifications.

“Co-Star,” Margaery read, “‘Everything happens for a reason,’ but this is just astrology…”

“No, it’s not just horoscopes,” Sansa said, “It’s not just based on me being a Pisces, it’s based on my whole birth chart— Well, that’s not the point! The point is,” Sansa grabs her clothes, “I have to find out. I just have to.”

After being fully dressed in her top and skirt, Sansa grabs her empty luggage. Filling it with neatly folded clothes and travel-sized toiletries, she zips the luggage close.

“Are you coming?” Sansa asked, finished with packing, “I mean, I can go, it’s summer vacation, so I’m not teaching kids now, and you’re in charge of your company, you can take leaves, right? Maybe I can ask Arya if we can stay with her, I know she’s in Essos—”

“Sansa, if you do this,” Margaery said, seriously, “You’re going to break my brother’s heart.”

Sansa stops moving. _Willas_.

“But, Margaery,” Sansa said, “I’m not planning to marry him, I just want to thank him. Even if he didn’t know, he’s been the person that made me not give up, that I held onto from afar.” Sansa’s eyes start to tear up, “If it wasn’t for him, or the hope of him, I would have committed suicide.”

“You can write a letter, or something!” Margaery exclaimed, “You don’t need to chase him to the other side of the world, and even _if_ you do, you’re putting too many expectations on him.” Margaery held Sansa by the shoulders, “Jon Snow might be the most wonderful person in the world, or the worst. But he’s not your savior, _you_ are. Are you really going to risk your happiness with someone you barely know?”

“I have to know,” Sansa said, plaintively, “I just want to make sure.”

Margaery looked at her, disappointment in her eyes. “I can’t believe you, Sansa,” Margaery said, picked up her tote, and left.

* * *

 Alone, Sansa cries. She understands, of course, that Margaery would side with her brother. The Tyrells were loyal to their own, just like the Starks, and done what was practical for their family. But she did mean it. She wasn’t going to seduce Jon Snow, she was going to meet him, and thank him. From what she heard from the telephone, he sounded like a decent person, putting his family first, and was polite. _Not to mention_ , Sansa’s mind traitorously thought, _he sounded so Northern, so… hot._

Sansa closed her eyes. Hot or not, she just wanted to thank the man whose name was a source of comfort all these years. But she needed Margaery to believe her. She didn’t want to cancel the wedding. Willas was a good man who genuinely cared about her. She wouldn’t risk their relationship.

Speaking of relationship, Sansa should call Robb. She didn’t want him and Margaery to fight over her.

“Robb?” Sansa said, once he picked up his phone.

“Sansa,” Robb said warmly, “How’s my younger sister?”

“Robb, all of your sisters are younger than you,” Sansa teased, good-naturedly. She then told him about Jon Snow, how he called, and how Margaery got upset, and that she doesn’t want them to fight over this.

“—And Margaery’s mad, and I know it’s crazy, but I’m really thinking about going to Braavos, and,” Sansa anxiously said, “And, I don’t _know_ , Robb, but shouldn’t I thank him for it?”

Robb remained silent.

“Robb? Are you there?” Sansa asked.

“Yes, I’m here,” Robb started, “But Sansa, you know it’s crazy to chase someone you barely know. _I_ barely know him, we’re just friends from law school. And—”

“You know him!” Sansa remembered, “What do you know about him?”

“He’s very… somber,” Robb said, “And quiet. We were friends, but I haven’t seen him in a while, and I don’t know if he’s your soulmate, but Sansa—”

_A troubled past_ , Melisandre murmured from years ago, _Something to do with his family, a revelation that already shook his very way of living_ …

“Robb— what if he’s the One?” Sansa gasped, “I know it seems irresponsible, but isn’t it more irresponsible to marry the wrong person?”

“But how would you know if he’s the One, Sansa?” Robb asked, exasperated, “I can’t believe you remember the name from an old board game—”

“It’s not just a game,” Sansa said, “And you forgot about the fortune teller.”

“So you’re just going to fly to Essos, and just…” Robb sputtered, “Comb the streets? Ask door to door?”

“Come on, Robb,” Sansa said, “I just need to thank him. Chances are, I’ll find out Jon’s not the one, and I’ll come home and marry Willas. But I have to find that out, at least. What if he’s the real thing?”

A pause. Then, a groan.

“Fine, Sansa,” Robb said, “I’ll talk to Margaery for you. If he’s in Braavos, maybe you can stay with Arya in the House of Black and White. His aunt usually stays near, but—”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Robb!” Sansa exclaimed. She hung the phone, and left the house, luggage ready for Braavos.


	4. Chapter 4

_Jon Snow, 28 years old_

Jon ended the call. He placed his phone back in his pocket, and stood there, dazed, until he was startled at the announcement that his flight would be leaving soon. He grabbed his luggage and pulled it forward, going to the flight attendant. As they assisted him, and led him to his plane, all he could think about was that voice on the phone.

Sansa Stark. Robb’s sister.

He didn’t intend to talk with her, but her voice confirmed what he remembered it sounded like— light, sweet, and almost melodious. She didn’t sound like a Northerner, although that could be because of her Southron mom. She was quite polite.

As he walked to his terminal, Jon remembered the Starks. His friend, Robb, was quick to anger. It wasn’t ideal for being a lawyer, but Robb’s passion for justice made it easy for him to befriend the red-haired Northerner. They both believed in having a fair court, believed in innocent before proven guilty, believed in doing the right thing.

_And yet,_

He remembered Robb on the first day of classes. He said to him that he wanted to fight against abusive partners, spouses, or significant others, because of what his sister has gone through. Because of what Sansa, the woman on the phone, has gone through. That women around Westeros were failed by the Justice System, and it was unfortunately lucky that Sansa had clear evidence. The system should stand up for all who were wronged, Robb said, not just those who were lucky enough to have evidence.

It was public knowledge when the Starks, family of the Northern representative Brandon Stark, won the case against Ramsay Bolton. Bolton was the remaining son of the mayor of the Dreadfort, who was rumored to be eyeing the Northern seat in King’s Landing’s Small Council. Some, sympathetic to the Starks, was thankful that this case was processed at all, given that King’s Landing rarely paid attention to the North, or Northerners in general. However, some speculated that the Starks faked the evidence in order to discredit the Boltons.

Knowing Robb, he knew the case was real. Robb in his first year was constantly serious because of it, taking down notes and all information he can get to be the best lawyer. That’s what made him a great case partner.

He knew that the case was real because all the Starks that he met were very serious. When he met Arya Stark when she dropped by Robb during one of her tournaments, she didn’t take a shit from anyone who said anything sexist, sometimes daring them to fight her (he had no doubt she would win). Ned Stark, when he and Robb assisted him for a case, scared him with his quiet anger pushing the intensity of his voice when they defended an abuse victim for libel and defamation. Even Bran, one of the more mild-mannered Starks, turned a cold shoulder to anyone who insinuated that the case wasn’t real.

He never met Sansa, not until his and Robb’s graduation. He supposed it was because she was back at university. He cringed, remembering about his awkward meeting with her. He didn’t even get to introduce himself because the Starks left immediately after it was done.

Anyways, why was he thinking about the Starks? Didn’t he make the call so that he would get his guilt over missing the reunion out of his mind?

He leaned on the back of his seat, closed his eyes, and started to dream about old memories.

* * *

  _Jon Snow, 24 years old  
_ _His graduation_

“Congratulations, Snow!” Robb said, then squinted his eyes, “Or should I call you, Targaryen? Wouldn’t want to get all the other Snows confused, eh?”

“Congrats, Stark,” Jon rolled his eyes, but brought him closer to embrace him, “Where’s little Arya?” Jon asked, fond of the feisty sister.

“Not here for the moment,” Robb said, “She’s coming from Braavos, but she’ll make it later. Any plans?”

“Dinner with parents, then—”

“There you are, Robb!”

Jon’s eyes were drawn to red hair, rushing to Robb. For a while, he was confused. His ex, Ygritte, also had beautiful red tresses, but it’s nearly been 2 years since she cheated on him with Val, one of his friends, and since she dumped him afterward. He doesn’t think about her that often, but red hair is rare in White Harbor.

Jon’s eyes corrected his thoughts. The woman was currently hugging Robb, so it was probably a sister. An  _elder_ sister, since Arya wasn’t here. She was taller than Ygritte, towering over most of the ladies, and nearly reaching Robb’s height. She had straighter hair, and Ygritte wouldn’t have been caught having long and manicured nails. Not to mention, she was dressed simply but well, with Jon noticing the expensive brands his aunt would have worn. She was honestly, Jon thought, _gorgeous_. She turned, with sparkling blue eyes that dimmed when she saw him.

 _Did I do anything wrong?_ Jon wanted to ask, but to be fair, he thought it was his ex until he saw their differences.She seemed to be shy, not wanting to say anything until Robb responded.

“Sansa,” Robb said, “What’s up?”

“We gotta go,” Sansa said, turning her focus directly to her brother, “Arya just landed.”

 _Sansa Stark_ , Jon gulped, and thought, _maybe she’s uncomfortable with men after Bolton_. Jon averted his eyes to Robb.

 _But it wasn’t appropriate to just ignore her_ , Jon reasoned, _after all, it’s been years since the Bolton case, and she seems to be doing well, maybe she’s just not comfortable with strangers?_

 _Not to mention,_ Jon internally groaned, _you were staring at her when you thought she was Ygritte, fucking hell, of course, she wouldn’t be comfortable_. Jon blinked, and realized that Robb was trying to excuse himself and waiting for his response.

“Go ahead, Stark,” Jon said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “You can’t keep Arya waiting, you know how she gets.”

“Hey, no one gets to insult my sister, except for me,” Robb said, then amended after seeing Sansa’s stern expression, “And my siblings.”

Jon laughed, and said, “See you later, Stark.”

“See you, Snow,” he heard, as the two siblings walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People have been asking as to why Robb never introduced Sansa to Jon! Sansa went back to college in King's Landing, while Robb and Jon were studying at White Harbor, in the North, so there was rarely any time for introductions. But it's fair that they would have at least met in Robb's graduation, which is seen here.


	5. Work in Progress

Hi guys, I know I promised that I would finish this work before June ends, but recent events came up, and I wasn't able to finish on time.

But rereading the work now, I realized the direction that I wanted this story to go to and the direction it's currently taking isn't the same. Because of this, I'm going to rewrite the story. I don't know  _when_ I'll finish, but once I reupload it, it  _will_ be complete.

Genuine thanks to all your kudos and comments! <3

 


End file.
